Bronze Magic (Book 1) Read online

  “And with you, I presume.”

  “To a lesser extent. I was merely seen as way to my brothers. Anyway, so much time was spent on all the intrigue and scandal that no one ever seemed to have time to get around to organising my education. My father would have made sure I was trained properly, but he died when I was eight and my mother’s time has mostly been spent adjudicating my brothers’ arguments and indulging in court intrigue.”

  Waterstone stopped bouncing his stones up and down and threw them, one at a time, into the river. “That sounds hideous.”

  Tarkyn grinned suddenly. “Oh, I don’t know. A lot of people would give their eye teeth to be able to have and do virtually anything they wanted.”

  “And you…?” asked Waterstone as he picked up two more pebbles and started to bounce them.

  The prince flicked him a glance. “I suspect you would like me to say that I don’t care about all those things but the truth is that I do. I’ve been brought up in a life of luxury, had everything I wanted at the lift of a finger, been surrounded by people wanting to please me…either for their own ends or from a loyalty that has been bred into them over generations. It will take some getting used to, not having all of that.” Tarkyn took a sip of water and gave a lop-sided smile. “On the other hand, I won’t have to dress for dinner every evening and endure hours of sycophantic conversation….”

  When Waterstone remained silent, Tarkyn looked at him. The woodman kept his eyes on the pebbles he was bouncing and waited. Finally Tarkyn sighed and said, “All right. You’re right. In many ways, it has been... difficult. Life in court since my father died has been tense, and even dangerous, most of the time. It hasn’t been easy sharing a life with two pathologically jealous brothers. I lost my father. My mother loves me, I think, but can’t cope with my brothers, and certainly has never had time for me. But don’t treat me like a poor little rich boy. I’m not…. At least, I wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago,” he added with a flash of dry humour. Tarkyn picked up a stone and threw it hard into the river. “Anyway, all families have their problems. It’s just that ours is played out in the public arena.”

  The woodman walked down to the water’s edge and re-filled their cups. As he handed Tarkyn his water, he said, “Public arena or not, most families can’t order the imprisonment of a family member on a whim… and wouldn’t, even if they could.”

  Tarkyn put down his cup, “You’re determined to feel sorry for me, aren’t you?” He picked up a stone and threw it hard against a nearby tree. “Look. In another family, the precocious younger brother might be relegated to the rotten jobs around the farm, get beaten up behind the barn, forced to work longer hours, sent away on long tedious errands... I don’t know…but in my family, everything is on larger scale. There is influence riding on everything. So, all the actions are more extreme. I don’t know that the ill-intent is any greater, just the power is.”

  Waterstone snorted. “That’s the whole point though, isn’t it? That power has corrupted all the relationships within your family and within the court. No wonder you struggle to believe in friendship.”

  The prince stared hard at Waterstone then looked away to contemplate the sun sparkling off the rippling water of the river. After a while, he returned his gaze to the woodman. He nearly spoke, but hesitated and instead returned to watching the river. The woodman began to pack away the remains of the lunch while he was waiting. Then he just sat there quietly. Finally, the prince dragged his eyes back around to meet and hold Waterstone’s.

  “You’re right,” Tarkyn said slowly. “If anyone ever professes their friendship, my mind automatically asks, ‘What does this person want from me? What do they hope to gain? Why are they doing this?’ I’ve thought about all my friends back at court and I think I can answer those questions for every one of them. I don’t know whether any of them will remain true to me now that I no longer have influence. Some might, but I honestly don’t know and even then I would be wondering what they would be hoping to gain.” He shook his head and looked down at the ground as he selected some pebbles to fiddle with. He shifted position a little, then looked back up at Waterstone. “And then we come to you. I can think of a lot of things you would gain from having my friendship.”

  The woodman’s face suffused with anger and he would have interrupted but Tarkyn held up his hand and said peremptorily. “No. Let me finish. You may be angry with me at the end, if you wish to.”

  Waterstone subsided but was clearly simmering.

  The prince gazed down at the pebbles in his hand as he continued, an unpleasantly cynical edge to his voice “As I was about to say, there are a lot of things you might gain from having my friendship. I am a powerful sorcerer, certainly more magically powerful in most ways than your people. Because of the oath, I could insist on absolute power over your people, if I so choose, and who knows, you could possibly share that power. In fact, I have much more influence here than I ever had in my brother’s court. Then, notoriety is always a great draw card.” Tarkyn brought bitter eyes up to face the angry woodman, “And yet, Waterstone, despite all the advantages you might gain from my friendship, I think I believe that your offer of friendship does not depend on them and may be truly genuine.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake!” growled Waterstone, not at all gratified, “That’s the weakest, most conditional avowal of good faith I’ve ever heard… ‘I think I believe’ and ‘friendship may be genuine’. That’s pathetic! Make your bloody mind up!”

  Tarkyn smiled ruefully, “I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do at the moment.”

  “You poor bloody bastard!” the woodman spat out, unappeased. “It must be a lonely world for you.”

  “It is,” said the prince shortly. Then, much to Waterstone’s further irritation, Tarkyn shook his head, guffawed with laughter and immediately wished he hadn’t. He gasped at a sharp stab of pain but managed to get out, “I love it when you get angry! No one else has ever dared to.”

  The woodman stared at him belligerently then suddenly broke into a smile. “Well, that’s taken the wind out of my sails then, hasn’t it?”

  “And if you want to know,” said Tarkyn, still struggling not to laugh, “It’s the one thing above all else that persuades me that your friendship may be genuine. No one else would risk losing my goodwill by being so openly angry.”

  “Oh good!” retorted Waterstone, “So all I have to do to prove my friendship is just get angry all the time and endure you laughing at me. Well, that is something to look forward to.”

  They both found this exquisitely funny, much to Tarkyn’s extreme discomfort. When they had recovered themselves, Tarkyn had his good arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. “Oh my aching ribs! I think I’m dying,” he groaned, still with a smile on his face. “I can’t stand much more of this.”

  Waterstone eyed him and, deciding he could stand a bit more, said flippantly “Well, you had better not make me angry again then.”

  Tarkyn spluttered with laughter then groaned again in pain. “Stop! Don’t make me laugh.”

  The woodman relented and did his best to become serious again. “All right. I’ll stop. Otherwise you won’t have enough energy to walk back up to your shelter. I’ll get you another drink of water and then we’ll head back.”

  The trip up the hill was much slower and more tiring than the journey down had been. Tarkyn had been out of bed too long for his first day and Waterstone was bearing most of his weight by the time they made it into the shelter. The prince was near exhaustion as the woodman helped him carefully down onto the bed. Tarkyn went almost instantly to sleep, but from that point onward, made a more rapid recovery.

  ext morning, the darkness lingered and Tarkyn could hear heavy rain pounding on the roof of the shelter. When the rain finally ceased, he could see chinks of sunlight through tiny gaps in the shelter’s structure. But still no one came to see him. By mid-morning he was very hungry and becoming concerned at the unexplained change in routine. Eventually a gentle rustlin
g heralded the arrival of Sparrow. However, she did not pull back the screening as usual but slithered in through the lower branches of it, clutching a small bag. Even before she stood up, she put her finger to her lips to signal silence. Quietly, she opened the bag and set out meat, bread and jam on a plate that she gave to Tarkyn with a flask of water. Then she sat down and watched him eat.

  After a few minutes, the intensity of her gaze gave the prince pause. He looked at her, pointed to the food and then to her. Sparrow hesitated then shook her head. Tarkyn thought for a moment then pointed separately to the meat, bread and jam and put his hand on his heart and his head on an angle after each one. She smiled and nodded in response to the bread and jam but pulled her mouth down at the meat. So then Tarkyn awkwardly spread some jam on a piece of bread, using his one available hand, and held it out to her. Sparrow put her head on one side and screwed her face up in uncertainty but the prince nodded emphatically. So she accepted the bread and jam with a beaming smile.

  Then, clear as a bell in Tarkyn’s mind, appeared the image of the water flask. He picked it up and offered it to Sparrow who accepted it with a casual smile of thanks. Tarkyn was just congratulating himself on having picked up a mind picture when suddenly they heard the sounds of shouting and crashing through the undergrowth in the woods outside. The prince’s eyes widened in alarm, as he imagined woodfolk being hunted down and injured. Pictures of an intense sorcerer on horseback searching through the woods flowed into his mind. Tarkyn brought two fingers from his eyes to indicate looking, and then pointed to himself with his head on one side. The girl shrugged and pointed to him then put her head on one side and mimicked an animal running with her hand and shrugged again.

  In answer to an unspoken query, Tarkyn received a picture from Waterstone high up in an oak tree, well hidden and looking down on an unshielded sorcerer passing below. The prince recognised the sorcerer and even as he concluded that it must be the king’s Hunting Party, he sensed Waterstone’s eyes widen and lose focus, as he received the image.

  Tarkyn was so distracted that he didn’t realise Sparrow was trying to get his attention. She came over and tapped him on the arm. Once he was looking, she put out her hand raising different numbers of fingers with a look of query on her face. The prince thought about a full hunting party and using her fingers, Sparrow checked with him that twenty was about right. He nodded and immediately sensed Waterstone passing the message on to other woodfolk in nearby trees.

  Then, way below Waterstone, on the forest path, the king and his twin brother came into view. A jolt of fear, loss and rage blasted through Tarkyn and his mind went blank. In consternation, he saw Sparrow give a little whimper and crumple onto the floor. He threw himself out of bed, sending the food flying. In a panic, he placed his hand on her neck and felt for a pulse. Beneath his fingers he could feel her heart beating strongly but very slowly. He breathed a sigh of relief and hoisted himself down onto the floor to sit with his back against the bed. Then he gently lifted Sparrow’s head, put it on his lap and began to stroke her hair. He tried to project calm soothing images but he could feel his mind blocking him. Gradually, by calming himself first and then focusing his will, he relaxed his mind barrier and was able to send waves of reassurance into the little girl’s mind.

  After what seemed an eternity, Sparrow stirred. She stared up at the prince looking down at her in concern, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She picked herself up and climbed onto his lap, snuggling her head against his good shoulder so that he could wrap his arm around her. Then she quietly sobbed her heart out. Tarkyn held her, stroking her arm and whispering softly in her ear until her sobs subsided and she gradually fell asleep.

  Not too much later, sounds of shouting drew closer. Tarkyn hugged Sparrow closer to him and with an awkward flick of his hand, threw a shield up around them. He could hear the wind picking up outside, throwing leaves and small branches spattering against the outside of the shelter. The shouting resolved itself into the voice of Waterstone yelling, “Her mind link stopped. Where is he? I’ll kill the bastard if he’s hurt a hair on her head,” followed by a crackling voice saying, “Calm down. Let’s just see if she’s safe first,” and another voice rumbling, “You can’t. You have to think of the forest.”

  The screening was thrown aside and Waterstone, blood running from a gash in the side of his face, stormed in flanked by the two woodfolk who were trying to calm him down and restrain him. He threw them off and seeing his daughter, pale and still, in Tarkyn’s arms, rushed at the prince.

  “I’ll kill you, you bastard,” he shouted. Outside, the wind roared through the trees and they could hear branches cracking and crashing down. Not far away, a ponderous series of crashes signalled the death of some large tree as it fell victim to the howling gale.

  The sorcerer expanded the shield to keep Waterstone at bay. The woodman hit the barrier and became, if possible, more angry.

  “How dare you keep me from my daughter?” he raged.

  Tarkyn sent a look of appeal to the other two woodfolk but Waterstone threw off all attempts to contain him.

  “Waterstone. Waterstone,” said Tarkyn urgently, “She’s all right. She’s not dead. She’s sleeping,” but the woodman was ranting so much, he didn’t even register that the prince was speaking.

  With a mute apology, the sorcerer, in quick progression, dropped the shield then incanted, “Shturrum.” The three woodfolk froze.

  “I’m sorry, Waterstone and you others. I don’t want to use strongarm tactics but Waterstone, you must listen; Sparrow is all right. She’s sleeping – Do you understand? It’s taken a long time to get her to sleep and I was hoping not to disturb her. It is your choice, of course. But if you’re going to beat me up, do it somewhere away from Sparrow.” The prince smiled wryly at the other two. “And don’t worry about your forests. As long as he doesn’t actually kill me, he has my permission to do to me what he needs to.”

  As soon as he said this, the wind outside dropped and an uneasy silence settled on the forest. The sorcerer waved his hand again, removing the paralysis spell but not re-instating the shield. He braced himself for Waterstone’s next move but the woodman now had himself in check.

  “Give me my daughter,” he demanded flatly.

  “Here.” Tarkyn gently shrugged his shoulder to push Sparrow forward towards her father but the movement woke her.

  The little girl opened her eyes sleepily and smiled at her father, “Hello dad. Tarkyn’s been minding me.” She started to nod off but murmured, just before she went back to sleep, “Actually, we’ve been minding each other.”

  Tarkyn and Waterstone were left staring at each other across the sleeping form of the woodman’s daughter.

  “I’ll speak to you later,” said Waterstone shortly and walked out bearing Sparrow.

  The prince looked at the other two woodfolk.

  “Have the huntsmen gone?” he asked urbanely to cover the awkward moment.

  “They’ve been gone for an hour or more,” rumbled one of them.

  “Just as well, with Waterstone shouting like that.” The prince frowned. “I thought woodfolk weren’t supposed to shout.”

  The woodmen exchanged glances. “We don’t, in the normal course of events.”

  The prince smiled disarmingly at them. “Would you mind telling me your names again? I have become confused.” He hazarded a guess. “Are you Thunder Storm?” He received a nod. “And you?”

  “Autumn Leaves.”

  “I thought you were, but I wasn’t sure.”

  Tarkyn flexed his shoulder and asked, “Could you two help me back into bed. I’ve been sitting in the same position for a couple of hours. It is not that I minded holding Sparrow, but my arm and shoulder were screaming by the end of it.

  Once he was settled back in bed, Tarkyn asked, “What happened to Waterstone’s face?”

  The two woodfolk looked at each other again, then Autumn Leaves shrugged, “We’re not sure. Just as the king and his brother we
re riding underneath, Waterstone’s eyes went wide and he lost his balance and nearly fell out of the tree. Luckily Thunder Storm was near enough to grab him but he swung in against the trunk of the tree and gashed his cheek. After that, all he wanted to do was get back here but we couldn’t move until the hunting party had left the area.”

  The prince ran his hand through his hair. “Poor Waterstone. No wonder he’d worked himself into such a frenzy.”

  “My lord,” rumbled Thunder Storm, “It is important that Waterstone is made to realise that he must control himself. He endangered the forest with his behaviour towards you.”

  The prince raised his eyes brows superciliously. “He has indeed, but that will be the last time you pass judgement on my actions. Perhaps you have forgotten that I, too, have sworn to protect the forests. I will deal with Waterstone as I see fit. The mindblast that hit Waterstone was a fraction of what hit his daughter, and I was its source. He was frightened for his daughter. He had every right to be angry with me, even though he must have known it was unintentional.”

  “But my lord...,”

  “But what?” asked the prince icily. “Do you expect a man to stand by and accept his daughter being hurt?”

  “Perhaps not.” rumbled Thunder Storm stiffly.

  “Do you have a daughter, Thunder Storm?”

  “I have two sons, my lord, five and seven years old.”

  “And how would you feel if I or someone else injured one of your sons?”

  “I would be upset, of course, but I would like to think that I would maintain a sense of proportion and put the welfare of all woodfolk before my own concerns.”

  “It has obviously not happened to you yet,” observed the prince tartly. “We would all like to think that we could act rationally in times of stress, Thunder Storm, but we often don’t.”